Watchful
by Acqua Sole
Summary: Kamui most certainly did not think herself a voyeur. Keep telling yourself that, the snide little voice in her head mocked. Written for Azurrin Week 2017. Day two: Sunshine. Rated M to be safe.


This is a really self indulgent piece; it was basically made with the thought of a flustered, embarrassed Kamui in mind, because her future wife is quite the sight for sore eyes.

* * *

Kamui watched with bated breath, and dared not stir for fear of being found out.

It was still early enough in the morning that the sunlight had a rosy glow to it, as it woke from its slumber and climbed its way up to the sky. The light shone in rays that filtered through the trees, and for a few moments, the world was warm and bright.

It paled in comparison to the sight before her.

Azura bathed in total tranquility in the small spring, waist deep in the crystal clear water. The songstress' long blue hair trailed behind as Azura walked the length of the pool, totally at ease, and her graceful hands traced idle designs in the water. A loon's cry was heard, and Azura joined in briefly with a few cheery notes.

Kamui most certainly did not think herself a voyeur; the princess had come in search of Azura, worried that she was nowhere to be found in the early morning hours. Kamui was relieved to find her safe and sound, of course, but the fact was that her very presence could have been misconstrued as her having impure thoughts. So she stayed a safe distance away, keeping watch atop the branches of a tall pine until Azura finished with her bath. It wouldn't do to have any perverts come close, and Azura needed someone to look after her in the event of sudden danger.

 _Keep telling yourself that,_ the snide little voice in Kamui's head mocked. All she could do was blush in response.

The springs were fed by a small creek that cascaded down from from a tall rocky ledge that was carpeted in moss and ivy. Azura walked leisurely to it, sighing appreciatively as the water rushed over her head. She arranged herself carefully on a rock situated directly beneath the waterfall, and set about the long, laborious task of combing through her luxurious hair.

Kamui simply could not tear her eyes away, completely caught, entranced even, as Azura carefully worked through any tangles she found, and her hands unconsciously began picking at her own split ends. She had often wondered what it would feel like, to run her hands through the singer's hair, and her gaze was longing and punctuated by a sigh as she watched Azura. When Azura was done, she made a simple plait out of her hair and tucked it to her side as she reached for a small wooden bucket: it contained a pumice stone, a simple white washcloth, and a small bar of ash soap.

The scene looked as though it came from a Nohrian landscape painting, Kamui decided. A lush forest setting, teeming with birdsong and friendly forest creatures, with the image centred on the lovely woodland nymph who came to the water to bathe. Garon had many paintings like that in his castle—while Kamui had been too young to notice the gods and satyrs leering at the nymph from shadowed corners, and the implication they had on the narrative, it was the first example that came to mind as she watched.

Azura scrubbed dutifully at her skin with the stone, making sure not to miss any corner of her body. And by gods, what a body! The sunlight made her skin look golden and soft, and her yellow eyes shone like freshly minted coins. The stone went back and forth, back and forth, over her knees, her heels, her elbows. The soap was smoothed over the red skin the stone left behind, with the few, tantalising flashes of the space between Azura's legs leaving Kamui breathless.

What would it be like, Kamui wondered, if she was there to bathe together? To take care of those pesky tangles for her? To offer to wash her back? Those brief, intrusive thoughts, as tempting as they were, were quickly chased away by feelings of shame—she had to do better to keep watch as a sentinel, instead of some lecher who spied on bathing girls. But who was she kidding? The mere sight of Azura was enrapturing. The motes floating gently in the wind, as well as the sunlight, gave the appearance that she was a golden nymph.

Kamui's breath hitched when she saw a stray breeze pass by and ruffle the boughs of the trees. Azura's nipples pebbled in response, and Kamui saw stars.

"Do you like what you see, my princess?" a sing-song voice taunted playfully.

Startled, Kamui reeled back, hit her head hard on an overhead branch, lost balance, and plummeted down to the forest floor. By the time she had come to, Azura (who had covered herself in a thin bathrobe) was standing over her, with a hand on her forehead.

"Are you alright? That was quite the fall."

Whatever garbled response Kamui might have had to that sudden shock was lost to the wind as Kamui raced back to camp, face aflame and body heating up with shame: shame at losing sight of her goal, and shame at being caught. The sound of Azura's musical laughter, clear as a bell's peal, chased after, hot on Kamui's heels.

* * *

I regret nothing.


End file.
